The Adventures of Harry's Cock - H/R - NC-17
Title: The Adventures of Harry's Cock
Author: shocolate
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 1219
Rating: NC-17

Happy Square Birthday, darling abigail89!!

It's the only highlight of one's forties… those chits of girls in their twenties don't appreciate the good deal they have, while they have it… 25:square, 27:cube, 28:perfect !

Lucky bitches.

Cherish it.

Like we cherish you.


The Adventures of Harry's Cock
****
I looked blearily into the bathroom mirror, which tutted at the sight of me, and tried to work up enough energy to brush my teeth.

I'd expected my twenties to be more interesting than this. Yes, sharing a tiny office and a flat with Harry was brilliant, and no one we loved kept dying.

But, quite frankly, I'd expected there to be more sex.

The most debauched encounter I'd managed was a desperate groping session behind the Three Broomsticks.

I was quite good at the crooked-grin-and-offer-to-buy-a-bird-a-drink bit. I'd cracked the shorter-the-skirt-the-more-likely-to-say-yes thing, without having had Seamus point it out to me, like Harry had.

But neither of us succeeded all that often at the wanna-come-back-to-my-place-and-(fondle-my-cock)-have-a-coffee bit. Harry did a fair bit better than me, of course, and not just because of the Chosen One stuff, but the girl I'd brought home tonight had actually wanted a coffee.

I'd spent an hour listening to her stories about working in the Ministry archives, while trying to edge closer on the couch, before giving up and chucking her in the fire.

Maybe I should actually start saying, "Dyou wanna come back to my place and fondle my cock?"

It would save time, in the long run.

And now it was midnight and Harry wasn't home yet to have a last drink with, so I thought I should probably call it a night. I could find out if he'd got lucky, in the morning. While I didn't like to think of Neville probing my sister's bits, I was really rather pleased that Harry had never got back together with her. There was no way I could live vicariously through Harry's penetrative anecdotes if my sister had been on the receiving end.

And I loved hearing about Harry's cock's adventures.

I was a big fan of Harry's cock.

I frowned at my reflection as that sentence echoed in my head, but just then I heard the Floo flare into life and Harry trip out of it. If you didn't learn to Floo by the age of five, you never quite got the timing right. This would never stop being funny, every time Harry and Hermione tripped over their feet.

I cracked the door to listen for voices; if Harry'd brought someone home, I'd slip off to bed without disturbing the seduction, and hear all the details in the morning. But two deep voices echoed down the hallway, muffled by the closed door to the lounge, so I decided to join them.

"I didn't get lucky either," I said as I opened the door, only to freeze at the sight that met my suddenly very wide eyes.

Harry was sprawled on our couch, where I'd had to nod my way through a lecture about document preservation charms, his boxers around his ankles, his legs open and eyes closed, his cock flushed and erect and being…

Worshipped.

Fucking worshipped.

Open mouthed kisses were being pressed to the head, there was a hand wrapped round the shaft, stroking it reverently, and one cupping his balls, tugging and rolling them between long fingers.

Long, freckled fingers.

"Percy?" I gasped.

He opened his eyes and gawped up at me, slack, wet lips parted, hands stilling on Harry's tackle.

"What the fuck?" I demanded, slamming the door and storming into the room.

"Ron," Harry said tentatively, trying to cover his cock, but tangling his hands with Percy's.

"This…. No!" I spluttered, gesturing between them.

Harry managed to break Percy's death grip on his balls and stumble to his feet, pulling up his boxers and tucking himself away.

"Please, Ron," he begged. "It's not…"

"…how it looks?" I interrupted, with a snort.

"I'll go," Percy said heavily, getting to his feet. "Give Harry a chance to explain."

I snorted.

"Let he who hasn’t experimented with Terry Boot cast the first stone, Ron," Percy said seriously, clapping Harry on the shoulder and stepping into our fireplace.

I found myself staring at Harry's sheepish knees, having had the moral high ground yanked out from under me and being unable to meet his eyes.

"Boot?" Harry said, in a baffled and bizarrely hurt tone of voice.

"Percy?" I spat, finally looking back up at him.

Harry sagged and sat back down, on the couch I was gonna have to burn.

"He… he looks…" He trailed off.

"Good on his knees?" I suggested nastily.

Harry shook his head, miserably.

"Like you," he murmured, looking up at me.

I gasped, feeling like he'd punched me in the stomach. Yes, I'd admired the archivist's tight blouse; yes, I was a big fan of a girl's soft places and yes, oh, yes, I liked nothing better than hearing about Harry's cock's adventures in them.

But, yes, I'd pressed Boot to the wall behind the Three Broomsticks, our mouths clashing, his chest hard against mine, my hand thrusting desperately inside his boxers to pull him off, glorifying in the look on his face as I made him come.

And that was just Boot.

Harry.

This was my Harry.

My Harry wanted… long, freckled fingers to… his balls…

Wanted… men?

Men to kneel at his feet and…

I fell abruptly to my knees, which was fucking painful.

"Ron?" he said. "Percy was just… I told him I wanted…"

"Me?" I whispered.

He nodded solemnly as I shuffled closer, on my bruised knees.

"But…" I stopped, my hands sliding up his thighs as he automatically parted them.

"Of course you don't," he said swiftly.

I tutted. "Not that I don't," I said. "I'll tell you about Boot, another time. I meant but you… you're so much better with women than I am… all your stories…"

"Mainly stories," he muttered.

"What?" I demanded. "But… why?"

"D'you have any idea how much I want to be able to talk to you about my cock?" he asked weakly.

"Oh," I breathed. "Um… yeah. I'm a big fan of those stories… about your cock."

He made a fantastic gurgling noise and I pushed his legs further apart and settled between them.

I freed his cock from his boxers and, if it had had arms… well, that would have been a bit odd, but it would have thrown them round my neck and never let go, judging by how enthusiastically it leapt into my hand.

I looked up at Harry and he was gazing at me as if I was… special.

Stroking him slowly, I let my other hand slide between his legs and cup his balls and tug gently and he groaned.

I stared into his incredible eyes as I wanked him and he breathed heavily and his hands were in fists on his thighs and he gasped and his eyelids fluttered closed and he visibly fought to open them.

"Let go, Harry," I whispered, "close your eyes."

"No," he croaked. "Don't have to pretend it's you."

"Oh, fuck," I moaned, not feeling up to this level of responsibility, but he was gasping my name and arching into my hand and coming in thick spurts and I'd done this to him.

He grinned insanely at me and I squeezed his throbbing cock and I was still a huge fan of it and maybe Harry'd come to bed with me and tell me about its latest adventure as a bedtime story.

Maybe he'd act it out.